


The Time The Quarrel About Fringe Jacket Happened

by Unshlack



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unshlack/pseuds/Unshlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>also the time when Wrench realized that keeping a diary is a bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time The Quarrel About Fringe Jacket Happened

**09.08.2003**

I quarreled with N. yesterday – bought myself a nice fringe jacket and this bearded asshole started mocking me. He couldn’t shut up all the way home. And continued doing it in the evening, but I couldn’t stand it anymore and so I hit him in the face. Not too strong, just to point out the fact, that he’s crossing the line. Maybe, that’ll help. I doubt it, though. I decided to ignore him for a week and we’ll see what happens next.

 

**09.10.2003**

Well, I couldn’t ignore him for a long time. He came first and took me by the shoulder. I felt relieved, because I hate quarrelling. And then he told me, that he doesn’t want to quarrel over such nonsense and that he is sorry. “But your jacket still looks fucking hideous” – he added next. I really wanted to punch him again, but I restrained myself. We does he keep doing that, I wonder? I thought I’ll finally be able to relax in the chair with the newspaper in the evening, but nope – N. showed up to watch his fucking TV, but more likely to stare at me. He thinks I didn’t notice that, ha! I decided to go to bed earlier than I usually do. N. stayed to watch TV. Thank God.

 

**09.11.2003**

Woke up from the smell of scrambled eggs. In the kitchen I found N., he gave me a big smile and went back to the stove. So I assumed that he remembers of what he did – he never smiles just like that. Or laughs. He only laughs at his own jokes.

Scrambled-eggs, however, tasted great. I was planning to ignore breakfast, but the smell was too good to refuse.

 

**09.12.2003**

N. asked me if I have any news from Fargo. I had to make the best sullen expression possible and shook my head. He knows perfectly that they prefer talking with him. Judging by his face, he was slightly upset, that I’m still offended. Looks like my plan is working.

 

**09.15.2003**

During lunch, he finally seized the opportunity and suggested going to the bar this evening. I said nothing, because I know how it usually ends. I still have time to think about his suggestion for a little bit longer.

 

**09.16.2003**

Plans have changed - the syndicate came out of hibernation, so we had to forget about the bar (to my relief and to N.’ annoyance). The girl was quite beautiful, even though half of her face has been demolished. We did the job pretty quickly, and on the way home N. said that we could celebrate our success at a bar. Can’t say that I was eager to get drunk, but the prospect of dragging this drunk asshole from the bar didn’t look good either.

Right, I'm going with him, but I'll have only one beer and that’s all.

 

**??????**

Ohmmmygod I m finally houm. jjast put that drunnk fcker intthe bed

cn’t think prperllly but ritingt her to remembarany thing tommora

alzo we vere kissin but ama not shure

 

**09.17.2003**

My God, what a nightmare.

 

**09.18.2003**

I'd rather got drunk to unconsciousness, but unfortunately I remember almost everything. We started with the beer, and finished with.. tequila shots? N. did his favorite thing – he started arguing with a guy twice as wide as him. Somewhere in all that drunken brawl I managed to pull him out of there, but seems like that big guy hit him heavily in the head. After we successfully got to the hotel and I stopped the car, he leaned forward and kissed me. I was hoping that I was delirious, but no - the smack of that shit that he smokes, I won't confuse with anything. He grabbed my face, mumbling something, but I understood none of it. Don’t know how long have we stated in the car, kissing. ~~I can’t tell if I liked that or not~~ I’m still mad at him. If he believes that after this "wonderful" evening all problems are solved, ~~he’s probably right~~  ...I don't even know. Fuck it. Why am I even writing all this?

 

**09.21.2003**

Still not a word about kissing. Not even a hint. I wonder if he remembers anything of the events of that night. I also wonder why I keep thinking about it. Ah, right, I almost forgot that I’m still mad at him.

 

**09.22.2003**

He brought me a package today and said told me it’s a gift. Guess what was it? A book. "All about men's fashion and more: how to become the king of fashion." The book flew back to the him. I can’t believe that 2 weeks have passed already, and he still can’t calm down about that fringe jacket.

I assume he remembers fucking nothing.

 

**09.26.2003**

Miraculously, I survived another three days, bringing all contacts with him to a minimum. He called me to the bar again, but I refused. So he went there alone, showed up in the middle of the night, woke me up and asked what he can do for me to quit sulking. I forced him to sign a paper that he will wear my fringe jacket for a week.

Of course, he ripped the paper in the morning.

Thank God I forced him to sign 2 copies.

 

**09.27.2003**

Hi, my name is Wrench. Remember, I'm that cornstalk with a hideous sideburns and a fashionable fringe jacket?

Yes, asshole, I found your pink diary. It's nice that you describe all the events connected with me in such a meticulous way. I’m flattered.

You really should find yourself a hobby. And don’t scatter your stuff everywhere.

Oh, I almost forgot – STOP RETELLING YOUR EROTIC FANTASIES ABOUT OUR DRUNK KISSES!

 

**09.28.2003**

I have no words.

 

**09.29.2003**

Although, wait, of course I have some. You won't hear any sound from me anymore, you asshole!

 

**10.1.2003**

Hey, relax already. It's been fun. Well, at least until you threw a book at me. It hurt, by the way.

 

**10.2.2003**

I was hoping that it will put your mind in place. Once again, fuck you. I'm not talking to you anymore.

 

**10.3.2003**

And what about the job? Are you going to turn away from me forever? You just can’t appreciate my subtle sense of humor.

 

**10.4.2003**

You see, your subtle sense of humor also failed to appreciate all the waitresses from all the cafes we’ve ever visited, all people of all the bars we’ve ever sat, the police, our postman, and the rest of the population of the globe. No one can appreciate it.

That's why you have no friends.

- ~~I don’t need any friends~~ Wait, you’re my friend too.

\- How sentimental. Don’t even try.

\- No, seriously.

\- I’m flattered. I’ve just seen how you’re writing this, smiling slyly. I’m deaf, but not blind.

\- At least, I tried. Why are you writing to me here?

\- Because I’m not talking to you, prick.

\- But we’re literally sitting next to each other and writing all this shit. That’s ridiculous.

\- Still better, than look at your face.

\- Rude.

\- Yeah, maybe. Sorry.

\- That’s ok. I’m sorry too. Maybe I'm really a big asshole sometimes.

\- Yes, you are. I’m tired. Wanna go and have some food at the café nearby? As I remember, last time there was a waitress, who kept looking at you all the time.

\- For your information, all the waitresses love looking at me. And not only waitresses.

\- If we’re going there, you’re coming in my fringe jacket

\- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> it supposed to be a part of the Shitty Week, but I was unable to finish the idea back then.   
> I hope you liked this short story and pardon me for all the mistakes. ^______^
> 
> why do I have a strange feeling that the whole is story is one big OOC..


End file.
